


forecast

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: The Caligula Effect (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:53:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: (Part of an exchange with shizu! I heard you like these hets.)





	forecast

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for formatting. mobile isn't kind.

The rain pounds against the window in a steady rhythm. Each attempt to enter is rebuffed, politely declined, _please try again tomorrow_ , and sheets of water slide down the glass. It's not a quiet struggle, each drop deafening, with no space for silence in between.

Inside, oblivious, Ritsu does his homework. By all rights, he should have graduated by now—at twenty he's certainly old enough—but his time in Mobius, essentially becoming a coma patient in the real world hadn't done him any favors. Add in recovery and rehabilitation and no amount of protests, of _no you don't understand I was in a school really_ would get him out of repeating.

He puts down his pen with a sigh, turning away from the practice problems. He pinches the bridge of his nose, the threat of a headache looming, then turns the boy next to him.

“I'm getting something to drink,” Ritsu tells him. “Do you want anything?”

Takkun shakes his head, gaze not leaving his worksheet. “I'm okay,” he says, features scrunched up in concentration. His hand is wobbly as he draws out the third stroke of _Takumi_ , the slight curve turning into a jagged line. He frowns as he looks for an eraser in his pencil case, the one on his pencil already worn down to the edge.

Ritsu yawns—fake, but with a six year old there's not much need for finesse—and stretches exaggeratedly. 

“So tired!” He says, perhaps a bit louder than necessary. “I think I really need to take a break!”

Takkun is buying it, from the way his lips wobble. From how he steals a glance at the television.

Ritsu smiles. “I heard the sentai reruns would be coming on right now,” he continues. “What was it, again? Something about the Patrangers finding out the Lupinrangers’ identities?”

Takkun hesitates and Ritsu encourages it. “You've been working hard,” he says. “But I don't think your mom would be mad at you taking a break.” He tuts, switching to Professor Mode. “There have been studies about kids your age, how breaks between work are necessary. It can mess up your cognitive development in the long run if you don't.”

Takkun, by now used to this, only nods.

He puts his things away neatly, pencil back in its case; worksheets first in a folder and then in his backpack. His pace speeds up as he heads to the couch, and by the time he turns on the television, the theme song has already started.

By the time the song draws to a close, Ritsu is back from the kitchen. He carries two cans of Pocari, one for himself, and the other he hands to Takkun. He smiles as he watches the child struggle to lift the tab, too stubborn and prideful to ask for help. Ritsu takes a swing of his own—interrupted by Takkun's shout of joy upon successfully opening his can—and together they settle in, as the story unfolds.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sorry about all this,” Kotono says, hours later, when Ritsu opens the door.

She's drenched, the storm caught her at a particularly bad time after leaving her job at the bar. She forgot to check the weather, she explains, standing in the entryway, squeezing all the water she can out of her clothes, so she didn't bring an umbrella with her either.

“Like I said,” Ritsu repeats, not for the first time. “It's not a problem. Takkun is a good kid. You can ask me for anything.”

“Then,” Kotono says with a smile, as she tilts her head ever so slightly, hair plastered to her neck. “I’d love it if you passed me a clean towel, _President_.”

Ritsu nods, throat suddenly dry. “The linen closet is near your mother's room, right?”

“Yeah,” Kotono says, now wringing out her hair. “Second door from the left.”

Ritsu makes it there and back in record time, making sure to step lightly lest he wake Takkun—snoring softly on the couch—up. He turns around the moment he hands Kotono her towel, squeezing his eyes shut as he hears the telltale sound of wet clothing dragging across the floor. He only opens them, turns back, the moment she clears her throat, following it up with an _I'm done_. The towel Ritsu handed her was the largest he could find, wrapped around her bust and reaching her knees, but the sight still brings a blush to his face. “I'll boil some water,” he says, as he heads for the kitchen.

Kotono's mother, as someone who runs a bar, who works in the food service business, generally keeps her kitchen neat and organized, so its within seconds that Ritsu finds the kettle, filling it with water and turning on the stove. He lays out two cups—a tea bag in each one—off to the side.

Kotono is gone by the time he returns to the living room, but he can hear the shower running upstairs, which tells him enough. He picks his things off the table in the meantime—math notebook tucked into his bag's front pocket, his classics report placed right behind.

He places his bag near the entrance, avoiding the small puddle where Kotono stood, heading back to the kitchen in short order. Kotono usually eats dinner at the bar, when work runs longer than usual, but the walk from the station is far from short, especially taxing with a storm like that.

Ritsu lays some cookies on a plate, the matcha ones with little chunks of white chocolate that she loves with her tea. By that time, the kettle is whistling and he pours out both cups, removing the tea bags after a few seconds. He places the ensemble on the tray, making sure to cover the cups, and bringing it all to the living room.

He waits and soon enough, Kotono walks downstairs, in a loose shirt and a pair of sweats. There's a towel—different, smaller—around her neck.

“Feeling better?” Ritsu asks.

“A lot,” Kotono says, perking up the moment she sees the tray. “Thank you.”

She sits next to her son, a fond smile crosses her faces as she brushes a strand of hair to the side. She sips her tea slowly, finishing that and her plate of cookies around the same time as Ritsu. While the tea and shower  warmed her up, it's obvious, Ritsu can tell, that she's still tired from her double shift from earlier.

“You know,” she says, pausing for a yawn. “You've gotten pretty good at taking care of people.”

Ritsu shrugs. “I've had some pretty good upperclassmen to show me the ropes.”

“Oh? Then you'd better treasure them. Good people don't come around that often.”

“I'm trying my best.” Ritsu says, voice fond. “Don't tell her I said this but just last week, I spotted one of my upperclassman's son drawing me into his family picture.”

“Ritsu…” Kotono says, teasing lilt gone. “This is something casual. I'm not expecting you to, you know…” She trails off and after a moment, Ritsu decides to speak.

“It's alright,” he says with a smile.  “The rain’s stopped by now so I'll be heading back soon.” He stops, gestures at Takkun. “I'll drop him off so get some rest, okay?”

Kotono nods, eyes slowly drifting shut.

Ritsu turns, lifts Takkun into his arms. None of them will ever admit it, but there's a part of them that still yearns for the Mobius. For those simple carefree days.

The real world is hard. There are no gifts raining down from the sky, no idol that will bend over backwards to accommodate your requests.

But, Ritsu notes, as he deposits Takkun upstairs—gently covers Kotono with a blanket—there are some things that make it worth living in.

**Author's Note:**

> [please join our caligula server](https://discord.gg/eYz8RBR)


End file.
